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Book Review – Jean Auel’s Clan of the Cave Bear

Jean Auel’s Clan of the Cave Bear and her subsequent highly successful series have also left a lasting impression on me. I was in awe, no pun intended, of her realistic and humanistic portrayal of ancient civilisations developing from Cave Dwellers to Hunter Gatherers about 3,000 years ago.

I was taught history in the traditional route working through the centuries from cavemen to the Tudors and Stuarts; since my elderly history teacher’s favourite period was the Tudors and Stuarts we repeated this era for our O’ Level and then I gave up history soon after. Thus I have always been aware that my understanding and knowledge of more modern history was embarrassingly lacking until recently. (I include right through from the Edwardians and Victorian ages to the World Wars of last century here) Maybe that’s one of the main reasons that I have been drawn to this era to research for my writing and why I’ve found the experience so satisfying. revelling in life in Victorian times through to the end of WW1.

I digress. Clan of the Cave Bear is beautifully written. I found the characterisation compelling and was fascinated by the details of their lives, including the vital use of herbal medicine for their physical well being and their shamanic practices for spiritual guidance. Having visited the rain forests of South America in the last few years, it brought the experiences of Ayla, the main heroine even more into focus.

As all good series should, I remember waiting with impatience for the next volume to reach the shelves and I know that Ayla’s story lived with me for several years. There have been five in the series up until very recently but I hear that, after a gap of several years, the sixth novel has been written, but that it is only out in hardback for now. I think that I might re read the series through before I savour ‘The Land of Painted Caves’ once it finally comes out in paperback. Oh the anticipation or returning to Jean Auel’s world which once consumed my every day life!

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Skallagrigg by William Horwood

The Skallagrigg is a tale of a young girl Esther who suffers from Cerebral Palsy. She comes from a fairly privileged background where she wants for nothing, apart from that fundamental loss of her mother who died in childbirth. Her father ensures that she is given every opportunity to succeed in life and she attends the best educational establishments which caters to her needs.

As she becomes increasingly close to her father, grandparents and other close friendships develop, Esther struggles with coming to terms with her disabilities. It is not until she becomes aware of a unique form of communication between people like herself and also to hear stories of the Skalagrigg, exclusive fables to her kind, that she begins to strive to reach her potential. In fact, it is the quest to discover the origins and truth about these Skalagrigg fables that drives her on, not only to carry out research but to become a highly skilled computer games programmer.

Esther wins a prize which leads her to fall in love, initially on line where she can fantasise about a relationship that she could never conceive to be a reality.  Against all odds ……. Well that would tell the whole story. I defy you not to weep at some point as you live with every moment of Ester’s challenging life.

William Horwood’s novel Skallagrigg is poignant, believable, tragic and moving and it stirred my emotions in a way which left an imprint on my life. Why? It challenged my perception of people but also the underlying trust that ‘The Skallagrigg will come back one day’ in all of the stories, which taught me that, even in the darkest circumstances, all it takes is a strong belief for human nature to have the motivation to survive and even thrive.

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Book reviews – a classical introduction

For the next two weeks I intend to focus my blog on reviews of those books which have had the greatest impact on me personally over the years.

I could include classics like The Lord of the Rings, which my sister and I read aloud to each other between Christmas and Easter when I was eleven, an epic I have certainly enjoyed several times on my own since then.

Then there was Thomas Hardy’s Far from the Madding Crowd which I remember with affection for its detailed descriptions, its capture of mood and characterisation and I must admit identifying more with Fanny than with Bathsheba Everdene, in my impressionable teenage years.

 In this list I could also not leave out Emily Brönte’s Wuthering Heights where I wept in the realisation that love does not always triumph.

Shall I add one of Jane Austin’s novels to these books of distinction and if so which one would it be? The hardest thing I find with Jane Austin is distinguishing between my memories of the written word and the film or televised costume dramas viewed since. My thoughts are coloured by voices and actions which sway my judgement and so I can’t easily identify a favourite amongst her work.

Instead, in the next two weeks I intend to share lesser tomes, in terms of their fame and fortune anyway, but nevertheless they will be novels which I believe are equally worthy because they still live on within me long after I have read the final page and they have certainly left their mark in the way in which I think about the world.

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